


Thankful For You

by orphan_account



Series: Destiel Christmas Minibang [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Brief Homophobic Comments, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Jock!Dean, M/M, Thanksgiving, nerd!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5393210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"“Thank you, Dean,” Cas murmurs, lips brushing against Dean’s with the words, and Dean’s brow furrows in confusion.</p><p>“For what?”</p><p>“Just…” Cas smiles, lightly shaking his head, and takes a breath. “You could have been one of those guys, the ones that deny themselves and hide who they are, and instead you hold yourself proudly and tell anyone who has a problem with it to fuck off. I just… I’m so very thankful for you, Dean Winchester.”"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thankful For You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Destiel Christmas Minibang](http://destielchristmasminibang.tumblr.com) December 13th prompt "scarf." 
> 
> Also, a very special thank you to [melamuse](melamuse.tumblr.com) who did the wonderful art for the fic! It was a pleasure to work with you! ♥

There’s ten minutes left of class when Dean looks up at the clock. Pencil tapping against his desk, he sighs and pushes his test packet away from himself, to the corner of the desk. He completed it nearly fifteen minutes ago and is now just waiting for the final bell of the day.

Ellen – _That’s Ms. Harvelle to you in this classroom, Winchester. I don’t give a rat’s ass that I’m your aunt_ – is up at the front of the room, slowly pacing across the floor while she supervises all the kids taking the test. She looks over at Dean, as if sensing his gaze, and gives a pointed look to his tapping pencil. He stills his hand and gives her a sheepish grin, and then rolls his eyes as soon as she continues her pacing.

Seven minutes left.

Something hits him in the side of the head, and Dean turns to glare at the kid beside him – Alfie, or something – who shakes his head fervently and gestures to the row beside him. Dean turns his glare from him to the shining blue eyes of his boyfriend, who’s way too innocently concentrated on his notebook and scribbling lazily. Cas glances up from under his lashes and beams at him like he didn’t just throw something at Dean’s face, pushing his glasses up his nose before turning back to his sketch.

Dean stares at him a minute longer then shakes his head and picks up the origami crane that Cas had tossed at him. He smiles despite himself, holding the delicate creation in his hand, then unfolds it carefully. There’s a line of Cas’ neat scrawl inside:

_I want to go to the park after school xoxo_

Dean snorts. Because Cas couldn’t just wait to tell him after class, nerd had to do _origami_ instead. But he tucks the note into the pocket of his letterman and knows he’ll be telling Sammy to walk home today.

For the last five minutes of class, Dean stares up at the ceiling, counting the divots in the panels while the clock slowly ticks away. As soon as the bell rings, he gathers his things and takes his test up to Ellen, who’s collecting them all.

“Have a great Thanksgiving, guys!” she calls after her students. “Dean, Cas, I’ll see you on Thursday!”

“You bringin’ your green bean casserole, Ellen?” Dean asks with a smile.

Ellen clips him lightly on the back of the head with the stack of test packets, and he sniggers. “Maybe I’ll accidentally not make enough for you to have any!” she threatens, but she’s fighting a smile.

Cas comes up and takes his hand, and they wave as they leave.

“See you later, Ellen!”

“Get out of my classroom, boy!”

Dean squeezes Cas’ hand and hefts his backpack higher up his shoulder, and they traverse the halls to their lockers. Students around them chatter excitedly about the five-day weekend, their families’ plans for the holiday, what they’ll be eating, and Dean listens with half an ear, leaning against his locker while he waits for Cas to put his things away.

He texts Sam to find his own way home and rolls his shoulders, looking over at his boyfriend. “So. The park, huh?”

Cas just nods, like they’ve been having a conversation the entire time. “The trees have finally turned colors, and our art final is a watercolor inspired by nature.” He closes his locker, wrapping his scarf – black cashmere and patterned in little bees, something his aunt had knitted for him two Christmases ago – around his neck, and his blue eyes shimmer as they meet Dean’s. “I want to take reference photos before all the leaves fall and leave the trees barren.”

Dean can never resist those wide, innocent eyes, and he smiles at the excitement he sees in them. Leaning forward, he presses a quick kiss to the tip of Cas’ nose, chuckling at the cute way it scrunches, then another to Cas’ chapped lips.

“Still takin’ it up the ass, Winchester?”

Dean grimaces against Cas’ mouth, pulling away to face Gordon Walker. The cornerback is sneering at them from across the hall, his goons snickering beside him. Walker had decided there was beef between them when Dean made quarterback sophomore year, and he took it upon himself to play the homophobic ass and antagonize Dean whenever he saw Dean with Cas. Dean still isn’t sure exactly what he’d ever done to Walker, but the dislike is mutual, so he figures it doesn’t really matter.

But it’s Thanksgiving break, and he’s not feeling like putting up with Walker’s shit today. He smiles pleasantly and slips his arm around Cas’ waist. “Still knockin’ it without tryin’ it, Walker?” he shoots back. He sighs theatrically, shaking his head sadly. “Don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

The look of disgust that covers Walker’s face makes Dean snicker in victory, and he makes a face at Walker’s retreating back as the asshole walks off.

Cas looks on in bemusement. “Good to know he’s still an assbutt.”

Dean laughs, kissing him again, and they walk off towards the parking lot. “I don’t think that’s something you can ever get rid of, Cas.”

Cas glances at him with a raised eyebrow. “ _You_ did.”

“I wasn’t an assbutt,” Dean protests, winking at him. “I was just an ass.”

Cas hums in agreement and takes Dean’s hand, and they walk to the Impala with their arms swinging between them. Other friends and classmates wish them a good break as they pass, and they return the sentiment with smiles and waves. The air is chilly even with the sun shining cheerfully, and Dean can see his breath on every exhale, feel the bite against his nose and cheeks and fingers.

When they get to the car, Dean opens Cas’ door for him to slide in before he goes to the driver’s side. Once Dean slides in behind the wheel, Cas slides across the bench seat and takes his face in cold hands, leaning in for a deeper, lingering kiss. Dean melts into it, cupping Cas’ cheek and twisting his fingers through Cas’ dark hair, and when Cas pulls back, they’re breathing heavy between them.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas murmurs, lips brushing against Dean’s with the words, and Dean’s brow furrows in confusion.

“For what?”

“Just…” Cas smiles, lightly shaking his head, and takes a breath. “You could have been one of _those_ guys, the ones that deny themselves and hide who they are, and instead you hold yourself proudly and tell anyone who has a problem with it to fuck off. I just… I’m so very thankful for you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean feels his cheeks heating beneath Cas’ cold fingers, his eyes stinging, and he ducks his head to kiss Cas again, just for something to do.

“Thanks, Cas,” he says shyly as he pulls away. He runs his fingers through Cas’ hair and smiles. “I’m thankful for you, too.”

Cas beams, and Dean can’t help but kiss him one more time, before pulling away to start the car. He holds tightly to Cas’ hand as they head to the park across town, the big one where Dean knows Cas likes to come on the weekends in the mornings where he can sit and watch the sunrise. There’s a bench near a group of trees that his boyfriend favors, and Dean pulls into the lot as close to Cas’ favorite spot as he can.

They head to the bench hand in hand, Dean’s other hand in his pocket and Cas’ other hand carrying his Nikon. When they reach it, Dean takes a seat, letting Cas’ hand go so his boyfriend can do his thing. He watches as Cas finds the shots he wants, the shutter clicking away as he bends and leans to change the angles.

In the afternoon sunlight, Cas’ hair looks like melted chocolate, thick and rich. His eyes are a bright, glowing cerulean, wide and big behind his glasses. He’s swallowed in the large blue sweater he’d found at the Goodwill a few weeks ago, soft and frayed almost imperceptibly at the hem, and his jeans are nearly whitewashed from how often he runs them through the washer because of paint stains. His Chuck’s are scuffed and splattered with paint, covered in scribbles from toe to tongue.

In a word, he’s beautiful, and Dean can’t take his eyes off him. He feels a rush of warmth for this boy who does what makes him happy and doesn’t care what others think, who always sees the good in everything and everyone, who chose Dean when Dean acted like a complete ass to him before he grew up and got over himself.

He really is thankful for Cas, and Dean smiles as Cas straightens up, looking at all his captured shots as he wanders over to the bench, to Dean. Dean reaches out and tugs on his sweater, pulling Cas down beside him and wrapping his arm around him.

“Terrible shots?” he teases.

Cas smiles at him, setting the camera between them and leaning against Dean. “Absolutely horrid,” he sighs dramatically. “I think I’ll have to take more tomorrow to be sure.”

Dean laughs, pressing a kiss to Cas’ temple. “Smartass.”

“You love me,” Cas says simply, and Dean has to agree.

The wind picks up, and Dean shivers, hunching his shoulders further into his letterman. Sitting up, Cas unwinds his scarf from around his neck and throws the extra length around Dean, pressing close and pulling him in and kissing him chastely. Dean smiles, looking down at the little bees expertly knitted into the cashmere, and reaches up a hand to trace a finger lightly over them. It’s much warmer next to Cas, wrapped up in a bee scarf, and Dean can only smile brightly at the people who pass them and point to them. Girls giggle behind their hands and guys snicker mockingly, but Dean doesn’t care, because he’s sitting with Cas, and no one matters to him more than Cas.

They sit on the bench until the sun touches the horizon and the temperature drops until their teeth begin chattering. When Cas starts sniffling, Dean unwraps the scarf from around his own neck and back around Cas before standing and offering his hand. Cas picks up his camera and takes Dean’s hand, their fingers sliding together as they hurry back to the Impala. They sigh in contentment when the heater kicks on, the rattle of Legos accompanying the hum of the engine.

Dean drops Cas off at his house at the same time Michael gets home from his classes at the university, and Dean waves to him as he steals one more kiss from Cas on the porch.

“You’ll see him on Thursday, Dean,” Michael groans, grimacing in mock discomfort as he pushes his way into the house between them. “I’m sure you can wait a day.”

Cas rolls his eyes at his brother, kissing Dean again for good measure. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous!” He shouts the last part into the house, loud enough for his brother to hear.

“No, I’m not!” Michael sing-songs back from the hall, and Dean and Cas laugh.

Cas takes a step back, still smiling. “I’ll see you in a couple days, Dean.”

“I’ll miss you every minute until then,” Dean says solemnly, fighting a grin.

“Why, Dean Winchester, was that a chick-flick moment?” Cas gasps, eyes wide and shinning with mirth. “I feel so loved.”

“Shut up, nerd,” Dean grouses without heat, and he pulls Cas back in to kiss his forehead. “See you Thursday.”

Cas’ eyes are soft when Dean steps back. “I love you.”

Dean smiles. “I know.”

* * *

Dean spends the day before Thanksgiving out with Mary and Kate, helping them shop for last-minute ingredients and spices and pie crust for dinner the next day. They have a pantry full of things already, but he knows that sometimes things go wrong, or you think you have something and it turns out you don’t, or you need to make a last-minute change to the menu, so he pushes the cart as they fill it with the things on their list.

“Do you want cinnamon-apple or blueberry cobbler?” Mary asks, looking at the fruits displayed, signs advertising whatever deal the store has on.

“They’ve got the blueberries on sale,” Kate points out, “but the apples look really nice. They probably won’t keep too much longer.”

“Good point.”

“Why not both?” he jokes, leaning against the cart. “You know I’ll eat whatever you make.”

Mary glares half-heartedly, fighting a smile, and Kate rolls her eyes. “Oh, you’re no help.”

He shrugs with a grin. “Guilty as charged.”

When they get home, he ropes Sam and Adam into helping put their groceries away, and then he and his brothers crash in the living room in front of the tv, yelling at each other while playing Mario Kart. They get kicked out when John gets home, commandeering the tv for himself, and Dean holes up in his room with the homework for his concurrent Physics class. He spends the entire time texting Cas and Benny, bemoaning the fact that he has homework over break. They both tell him to stuff his shit and just do it.

Traitors.

Early the next morning, Dean rolls out of bed to Mary banging on his door.

“Come on, Dean!” she shouts, and he blinks through the sleep in his eyes. “You’re making the dressing!”

Slumping to his door, he cracks it open to glare blearily at his mom. “I thought Grandma Deanna was brining dressing,” he grumbles, running a hand over his face.

“She is,” she replies briskly, walking down the hall. Dean yawns wide, stretching and scratching his stomach. “But you, Adam, Jo, and Michael don’t like the extra spices she puts in hers, so you’re making your own dressing.”

“Right,” he groans, and he reluctantly makes his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower.

Sam and Adam are already in the kitchen peeling potatoes when Dean enters, barefoot and dressed in jeans and his Star Wars t-shirt.

“Hey, nerds,” he greets them, and they both mumble in reply.

He knows that feel.

At about eleven, guests start showing up. First is Grandpa Henry with one of the three turkeys that will be served. He hugs them all before moving to the study to stay out of the way. Bobby and Rufus show up at eleven-thirty, both bearing the alcohol. Grandpa Samuel and Grandma Deanna, along with cousins Gwen, Christian, and Mark, show up a little after noon, with dressing, stuffing, and a peach cobbler, which Dean immediately salivates over and makes sure to hug his grandma extra tight.

Ellen, Jo, and Ash follow with two green bean casseroles, along with Missouri Moseley who brings two broccoli-rice casseroles.

“You’re getting’ so grown up, boy,” Missouri tells Dean as he helps her set her things down, and he smiles at his counselor. “You picked a college yet?”

“I’m thinking KU,” he tells her. “Engineering.”

She pats his arm approvingly. “You’ll do great things, Dean Winchester.”

“Thanks, Miss Moseley.”

At one-thirty, while most of the main dishes are cooking, Cas, Michael, Luce, Gabriel, and Naomi show up, and Dean welcomes them with a smile and a sweeping, spinning hug for Cas.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas greets, and Dean pulls him into a kiss.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Get a room, little brother!” Gabriel shouts while Luce lets out a wolf-whistle.

“Go fuck yourself, Gabriel!” Cas shouts back as he pulls away from Dean.

“Castiel James Novak!” Mary shouts from the kitchen. “I hear that again and I’m washing your mouth out with soap, you understand me?”

Cas rolls his eyes, but looks chastised. He tightens his arms around Dean, burying his flushed face in Dean’s neck. “Yes, Mary! I’m sorry! I love you!”

Everyone else just laughs, and Dean pulls his boyfriend through the house and up the stairs to his room, where they escape the crowd. Cas sighs and falls prostrate onto the bed, and Dean sits beside him, rubbing his back and smiling. He reaches up to tug at the bee scarf still wrapped around Cas’ neck, pulling it loose enough to wrap around his own neck as he lies down beside his boyfriend, snuggling in close by wrapping his arms and legs around Cas. Cas turns his head to face him, eyes big and blue, nose buried in the cashmere.

Dean nudges his nose against Cas’. “Hi.”

Cas squirms until his face is out of the scarf and then leans forward to kiss Dean. “Hi.”

They lie there for the next few hours, dozing in and out while they wait for the food to be ready. Around two, their brothers – Sam, Adam, Gabriel, Luce, even Michael – along with Jo and Ash barge into the room with a shout of “Dog pile!”, all piling on top of Dean and Cas on the queen-size bed. With skillful maneuvering, they all manage to find somewhat comfortable positions and nap together, some pushed to the edges, some on top of others.

The smirks on Gwen’s and Christian’s faces when they all get up when dinner is called make Dean’s stomach flip uncomfortably, and he can’t shake the feeling of future blackmailing.

Dean and Cas are still tangled together in the scarf as they make their way to the dining room, and they laugh as they pull it off themselves and tie it between their chairs. Dean smiles at it and then at Cas, who returns the grin and takes Dean’s hand to lead him to the kitchen to help bring out the feast.  

When everything is set out and everyone is situated around the tables, Grandpa Henry stands, commanding everyone’s attention and smiling.

“It’s nice to see so many sitting together as a family,” he starts, and hums of agreement sound throughout the room. “I’m so thankful that we can all come together like this: with good food and even better company. Let’s all remember the purpose of this day, and keep in our minds and our hearts what we’re thankful for this day.”

He pauses, looking at each person in the room, then grins and claps his hands. “Well, that’s all I have! This food ain’t gonna eat itself!”

A cheer goes up, and the sounds of silverware clattering against china and easy, friendly chatter take over as the soundtrack for the hour.

Dean piles his plate high with a scoop and a half from every dish he can reach, earning disgusted faces from Sam and Michael as he stuffs his face. Jo matches him bite for bite, and Gabriel, Ash, and Luce compete to see who can put more stuffing in their mouths at once. Cas outdoes both of them.

Dean and Cas play footsie under the table the entire time.

As soon as everyone is stuffed to the point of bursting, the dishes about a third full from where they started, the pies and cobblers gone, the room clears out, the adults finding spacing in the living room to sit and talk or watch the game, and the kids migrate upstairs to the bedrooms.

The others taking mercy, Dean and Cas are left alone in Dean’s room, and they curl up together on the bed, once again wrapped up in the scarf and pressed close together. Cas lays his head on Dean’s chest, tucking it beneath his chin, and Dean buries his nose in Cas’ hair, inhaling the smell of his shampoo, fresh rain and clean air.

“Thank you, Cas,” Dean murmurs. He feels choked up, and he wants to put what he feels into words, but he doesn’t have them, so he just holds Cas closer.

Cas leans up, hovering right above Dean. His eyes are soft, tender, and Dean sees love and adoration in them.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” he says with such confidence that Dean can’t help but smile and lean up to kiss him. He lets it linger, tasting the blueberry cobbler Cas had for dessert, and when he pulls back, he bumps their noses together.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [leviathncas](http://leviathncas.tumblr.com)


End file.
